F O U R T E E N

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A U D R E Y

"I heard she's got horns under there."

"Horns? No way."

"Yeah, horns, dude. And eats baby hearts and shit. That's at least what Carson told the dean after they broke up."

The Devil Girl. Between classes, they would always see her sitting alone on a park bench on campus. No matter, how cold it was, she'd be there, with a lit cigarette casting a hellish glow upon her carnivorous jawline and cheekbones as she let out a billowing stack of human vapor. That's what it looked like. There was an inhuman lack of variance in her movements, the way she would pace herself between drags, or the way she used her four fingertips to slide the top page until it climbed to the height of its loop and gently came down, every time, the same way as she read her textbook. 

She wore a trench coat, with its collar high up by her cheeks. The boys could only imagine what she was hiding under there: gears, circuits, another head. And she kept her fiery red-orange hair wrapped in a tight bun on the top of her head, with bangs like curtains plummeting down her brow like the kind seen in a theater, to hide the horns, of course, descending upon her oblong-shaped gloomy eyes like staring into the hollow orbitals of a grim bringer of death. She had tiny brown freckles that glared into you, the many eyes of an arachnid; a pale bottom lip in which she kept her fangs holstered, and a long, sleek neck that could probably unhinge and stretch, and maybe even expand depending on how large the prey was.

"Don't believe me? Then why don't you go talk to her? See if you can keep her from pulling your soul through your nose."

"Whatever, man, I'll go do it, it's just a girl." There was a curious thing about the siren Devil Girl. It was something the boys at the college had no chance of comprehending, that it was part of a man's basest desires to leave their footprints in things, to evoke a change, to show that they were there. That there was a place where their footsteps would make no lasting impressions, it was something that could simply not be left alone.

"That girl's in my Sociology lecture," the boys continued their conversation as the one slowly approached her.

"Talk about irony. She looks like she doesn't want anything to do with people."

"Hey there," he said in a suave, sultry tone. "Mind if I sit down?" She didn't respond. There was no variance in her movements: a drag of the cigarette, a swipe of the page, an exhale of human souls flying out in a cloud. He sat down anyway. His heart was rapidly beating. He searched his mind for something cool to say.

"I hope I'm not being to forward or anything, but, well, I've seen you around a couple times and, you don't seem to ever talk to anybody. I mean, you're pretty cute. I don't see why a girl like you wouldn't have loads of friends."

"You wanna be my friend?" she cooed. It surprised him. Her voice was sweet and angelic. It made him smirk like a fool.

"Be your friend?"

"Well, are interested in me or not, boy?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm interested," he stammered. His cheeks were burning red. "So you wanna go out some time or?" She pointed left, where the stood a big black tree with bare branches. He gulped.

"How about right now?" she whispered.

"Uh, right now?"

"Whaddya say? Let's go right behind that tree. You're not scared are you?"

"Scared? Me? No I'm not scared," he sputtered. "It's just that—"

"I don't believe in wasting any time, especially when comes to something as simple as that."

"Wait. You're serious?"

"What are you, a choir boy?" She pursed her lips together. When she didn't hide them, they were actually quite pink and full. "It is what you want, isn't it?"

"Fuck it, then, let's do it," he said, grabbing her hand. She didn't budge.

"I have to warn you, though, I'm very fickle," she murmured. Her voice had turned cold and ominous. "I'll never tell you, but if I don't like it, I'll bite it off."

He gave a nervous half-chuckle. "What, are you serious?" He looked back at her. Her gloomy eyes, her sharp freckles, they were piercing a hole into his mind and letting all that he was spill out of him in a cold, frightened sweat.

"I know what you boys call me," she said. "The Devil Girl. I admit I didn't like it at first, but, I'm giving you chance right now to see for yourself if the rumors are true. I told you what the stakes are. I may not have horns, but trust me, I've done before and I'll do it again. You have just as good a chance as any other guy. But if you're gonna be a little bitch then don't talk to me."

He gritted his teeth. "Fine then, you kooky bitch let's do it then!"

"You mean, you actually would?" A giant smirk appeared across her face. He looked vexed. "You went from being scared of the Devil Girl biting your little dick off to wanting to fuck behind that tree in under a minute, and all because I challenged your little man pride! Hahaha!" Her laugh was a wicked cackle like that of a witch. His buddies looked on in horror as they watched their friend looking as if he was drowning standing up.

"You are fucked up in the head lady!" She continued to cackle. It was one hundred times the emotion she'd shown all semester, which made it all the more eerie. He stormed past his friends as they chased after him, clamoring to know what happened.

"That's what I told ya. Everyone knows. That girl, Audrey, is the Devil Girl."

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